Bad Blood
by Atarah Derekh
Summary: While doing some genealogical research, Miguel learns his mother's grandfather was an illegitimate child, born to a B-list actress. Fearing she may be in danger of being forgotten, Miguel sets off on Dia de los Muertos to find and, if necessary, rescue her. His search leads him to discover that he may not be so unrelated to Ernesto de la Cruz after all. Rated T for safety.
1. An Updated Family Tree

**Disclaimer:** Pixar owns everyone except the family tree I made up for Luisa. This first chapter is exposition, but this is the only time this will all be explained, so bear with me.

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Chapter 1: Catching Up on the Family Tree

It was the first collaborative effort Miguel had ever made with his cousin Rosa. Which they both felt quite proud of, as normally, they bickered as if they were siblings. Which they practically were, what with growing up in the same home and all. And after Miguel returned from his night in the graveyard (at least, that's what he'd told his family had happened), he had made it clear that family was so incredibly important to him now. His success in bringing some life back into Mama Coco's eyes convinced his abuelita to lift the ban on music, and they had even listened to Coco and Miguel recount Hector's life, bringing him back into the family and restoring his picture on the ofrenda. But for Miguel, it wasn't enough. He wanted to do something more. So, for Mama Coco's 100th birthday, he enlisted Rosa's help to put together a comprehensive family tree, going back as many generations as they could on the Rivera side, and expanding the tree to include the families of those who had married into the Rivera family.

Actually, when he'd casually mentioned to Rosa that he would like to do something like that, she was the one who became excited and insisted on starting right away. After all, neither of them knew how much longer their great-grandmother had, or even if she would make it to her 100th birthday in a few months. So the cousins pooled their resources, including their savings, went to the local library, and registered for an online ancestry database. It took months of researching and hunting down the smallest leads, right up until the deadline, but at Coco's 100th birthday party, the two were able to present a beautiful printout of the Rivera family tree going back to the early 1800s, and including branches to other families, such as those of Rosa's mother and Miguel's mother. Those portions were incomplete, the cousins admitted, but the focal point was always intended to be the Riveras. Mama Coco was able to enjoy the gift for a moment before becoming tired again and settling back into her normal, relaxed state. But Abuelita _loved_ the gift, and couldn't stop gushing over it. She said she would have to find a way to display the tree in the ofrenda room.

And that was supposed to be that, with Miguel and Rosa continuing their research casually, as they had the free time to do so and were thinking of it (they were both pretty busy these days, adding music lessons on top of school and work). But there was something about his research that Miguel couldn't get out of his mind. He added footnotes about it in his music journal, and the thought kept him awake many nights. Even after Mama Coco passed shortly after her birthday, Miguel couldn't get his mind off of a certain dead end in his research into his mother's part of the family tree.

His great-grandfather on that side of the family was born out of wedlock to some B-list actress, and no one knew who his father was. In fact, Miguel's research had presented him with only a name for this once-aspiring thespian who had appeared by all accounts to have been cut off from her family: Josefina Mendez.

Miguel couldn't silence the nagging thought that if it had taken that much digging to uncover the identity of his great-great-grandmother, that perhaps she had already been forgotten. Or at the very least, she was in danger of being so. His fears were only worsened when, while pestering his mother for any information she had on her side of the family, he'd been told that hardly anything was known about the mysterious relative other than that she played small roles in small movies. Her son had been eventually surrendered to a convent, and was fostered by the very family into which he would eventually marry. His story had turned out very happy, but he never did learn what had ultimately become of his mother, despite searching for her for years as an adult. Marco was his name. He was regarded as the patriarch of the Mendez-Rodriguez family, whence came Luisa, Miguel's mother. Miguel did learn that Marco preferred going by Rodriguez rather than Mendez. Which told him that his great-grandfather had been somewhat conflicted about his loyalty to the woman who birthed him.

But Miguel wasn't one to just give up on a family member, no matter how disgraced they were. He spent the summer and early fall doing as much research as he could on Josefina Mendez. He learned that her resume included small supporting roles in two or three of Ernesto de la Cruz's films. But as de la Cruz was now disgraced after being outed as a thief and accused of murder (Miguel, of course, couldn't prove the claims, but once the story of Hector's death came to light, people became very suspicious of de la Cruz), there weren't many people left willing to talk about the work they might have done with him. And they certainly couldn't remember an actress named Josefina.

As Dia de los Muertos approached, Miguel considered giving up. With no leads left to follow, he was convinced it would be too late to save his great-great-grandmother anyway. She had almost certainly disappeared from the Land of the Dead by now.

It was a chance encounter that led Miguel to the biggest lead he'd had in his search so far, and it was all thanks to his music.

An agent from Mexico City was having car problems while traveling through Santa Cecilia one day, and he happened upon Miguel working out the final notes on one of his songs, which Miguel wanted to have finished before Dia de los Muertos, so that he could be sure Hector and his deceased family would hear it right away. The agent liked what he heard, and the next thing Miguel knew, he and his father were on their way to Mexico City to record the song. It became a local hit, and Miguel would later receive the first check he'd ever made on his talent.

While in Mexico City, Miguel was introduced to a music studio owner whose father had, as it happened, been a gaffer on some of de la Cruz's biggest movies. And this studio owner recounted a story during a lunch break of his father's observations of de la Cruz's behavior toward women. Miguel expected tales of gushy romance, which wasn't exactly his preferred genre. But what he heard instead was disdain. Apparently, de la Cruz was quite the womanizer. He regularly manipulated his girlfriends into gaining favors for him, and he was never faithful to just one girl, having on and off flings on the side. One of his one-night-stand dates was a lovely backup dancer by the name of...Josefina. The studio owner recounted how his father had told him that Josefina was fired from the film a month later, after telling her boss she was pregnant. De la Cruz never came to her defense, and she disappeared from show biz after that.

Armed with this knowledge and all the notes that went with it, Miguel returned home with a plan. He was going to find out what happened to Josefina, even if it meant going to the Land of the Dead to do it. And, of course, Miguel knew from experience the best way to get into the Land of the Dead. All he had to do was steal something from one of his relatives, explain to them his mission, complete said mission, and get their blessing to go home before sunrise.

Easy, right?

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 **AN:** I am omitting accents and Spanish punctuation, as they are really, REALLY annoying to continuously copy-paste whenever I need them, and my computer does not provide any shortcuts to type them in (I've tried; the shortcuts they list do not work). I will make an exception for the ñ, as it's more important to the pronunciation of a word than an implied accent.


	2. The Mission

Chapter 2: The Mission

Dia de los Muertos had arrived. Miguel was excitedly introducing his baby sister Socorro to the family ofrenda. Baby Coco cooed happily over the pictures of her relatives, drawing a smile from Abuelita as she entered the room, carrying the final portrait taken of Mama Coco. Miguel placed a comforting hand on his abuelita's shoulder as she settled the picture in place right next to Papa Julio, and just one shelf below Tia Victoria. This year would be Mama Coco's first visit to her living family as a skeletal spirit, and Miguel could only hope she loved the song he'd written for the occasion.

"Miguel, don't you have a performance to get ready for?" Abuelita asked. "Give me the baby and go get your costume on. It's almost sunset!"

Miguel smiled as he handed off his sister. "Si, Abuelita. I hope our family really likes my song. I wrote it just for them."

"Oh, mijo, they'll be sure to love it. Especially that rogue of a great-great-grandfather of yours. Though I think your Mama Imelda might be shocked we have musica again."

"Nah, she's fine with it," Miguel assured her. "She told me herself." He gave his grandmother a lopsided grin, highlighting his single dimple.

Abuelita raised an eyebrow. "Ay, niño, you make such loco claims since last Dia de los Muertos. Are you sure being trapped in that crypt all night didn't cause you some cabesa trouble?"

Miguel chuckled. "No, Abuelita. I-I was just...teasing. But I know in my heart that once she learned the truth about Papa Hector, Mama Imelda didn't hate music so much."

"We can only hope. At any rate, she'll have to tolerate it tonight. If I have to sit through music, so does she." Abuelita gave Miguel a teasing grin and kissed his forehead. "Now, go get ready to offend your Mama Imelda with that guitar of yours."

Miguel headed to his room to change, excited for the night's festivities. But in the back of his mind was a sobering thought. He had a job to do tonight, and hopefully Papa Hector would be willing to help. Or at the very least, hold off Mama Imelda and Pepita until Miguel could take off on his self-appointed mission.

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"Proud Corazon" was definitely a hit. Miguel already knew his living family loved it. And judging by the excitement of the newly-returned Dante (whom Miguel hadn't seen in a year), his late family loved it too. Miguel retreated to the sidelines after his performance, slowly making his way to the ofrenda room as inconspicuously as he could. Dante, of course, trotted happily alongside him, barking the whole way.

"Dante, callete!" Miguel shushed his alebrije. "I'm on a mission, boy. I can't let anyone else know what I'm up to. Not yet."

Dante quieted, looking up to his right, head cocked, as if questioning another person. Miguel didn't pay any attention to this gesture, focused as he was on getting to the ofrenda room. It never crossed his mind that Dante was giving a confused look to another person present; though if it had, Miguel wouldn't have cared, as there was nothing said relative could do at the moment.

As for Hector Rivera, he'd been suspicious of his descendant the moment the boy withdrew from his family. And he was just as confused as the Xolo as to what Miguel was up to. Dog and spirit followed Miguel to the ofrenda room, neither of them drawing attention to the family that was laughing and dancing in the courtyard.

"What are you doing, chamaco?" Hector muttered as Miguel began to scan the items on the ofrenda.

The boy musician plucked up a tamale and studied it. "Does food even count?" he mused aloud. "Well, one way to find out." He unwrapped the tamale and took a bite, grimacing as he did so. Cold. He hated cold tamales.

Now Hector was really confused. Why was Miguel eating off the ofrenda?

Miguel looked around. So far, no skeletons. He poked his head out the door and looked around the courtyard. Still no skeletons. Disappointed, he wrapped the tamale back up and set it back in its spot.

"So much for that. I guess food doesn't count. Maybe it's just not important enough. Maybe I need something that belonged to them in life. Something that they loved. Like Papa Hector's guitar."

Realization dawned on Hector's face. Miguel was trying to get himself cursed again! He knew the kid must miss him, but this was just loco.

"No, mijo, stop!" Hector cried, though he knew he was presently unheard. "What are you doing? I know you probably want to make sure I'm here, but can we _please_ avoid going through what we did last year? How do you know the curse won't pick up where it left off?"

Miguel pondered the non-food items on the ofrenda. He finally chose something truly iconic of one of his ancestors: Mama Imelda's awl. He pocketed the item and looked around again. He still didn't seem to be ghostly.

"Maybe the object needs to leave the room," he said, turning to Dante. "Come on, boy, let's see how well this works."

Hector facepalmed as Miguel walked through him toward the door. As the young teen set foot outside the doorway, Hector turned and grabbed at Miguel's jacket out of pure frustration. To his surprise, he connected.

Miguel yelped and spun around, the action causing him to tumble fully out the doorway. He glanced up to see who had grabbed him. When he recognized his Papa Hector, his startled expression gave way to joy, and he leaped to his feet, losing his sombrero in the process. He flung himself into Hector, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him into a hug.

"It worked! Papa Hector, I'm so glad to see you again! I'm so glad Mama Coco didn't forget you!"

Hector couldn't help but return the hug. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad to see you too, chamaco. And that song really was amazing. But stealing from your Mama Imelda just so you can see me again? I was afraid you'd be instantly turned into a skeleton!"

"I have until sunrise before that happens," Miguel said, looking up. "At least, I thought I did."

"After how close you came last year, it wasn't exactly wise to test that idea, mijo," Hector scolded. "But hey, at least we know how to undo a family curse, right? Just let me get a flower petal." He stepped out of Miguel's embrace and stooped to pick up a marigold petal.

"Papa Hector, wait," Miguel said. "Actually...I didn't get myself cursed again so I could see you. At least, that's not the main reason."

Hector raised a bony brow. "What? What are you up to, chamaco?"

Miguel gestured for Hector to follow him back into the ofrenda room. The teen proceeded to pull out the rolled up family tree (or the ghostly form thereof, at least), which had yet to find a suitable place on a wall. Miguel rolled out the paper on the floor.

"Cousin Rosa and I made this for Mama Coco's 100th birthday. It has not just our family on it, but Mama's family, and the families of people who married into our family. But those parts aren't finished yet, because we haven't been able to find them all."

Hector studied the tree in awe. He smiled as he saw his own ancestors—long since forgotten—listed above his name, all the way back to the Spanish-American War. Imelda's family line went back even further, to the year 1800.

Miguel drew his attention to Luisa's family tree, where one of several question marks was acting as a placeholder for her great-grandfather.

"Mama's grandfather was a man named Marco Mendez-Rodriguez. His mother was an actress, Josefina. I've been trying to find out about her, because she gave Marco up when he was a little kid. He searched for her when he grew up, but couldn't find her. And he never knew who his father was. But I found a lead, and...well, I'm hoping that Josefina hasn't already been forgotten."

Miguel looked up at Hector. "I was hoping you could help me find her, or at least find out about her. Maybe you knew her in the Land of the Dead?"

Hector was somewhat incredulous. His grandson seemed to have inherited not only his determination, but his savvy as well. Here Miguel was, trying tricks he had no business attempting, in order to meet up with a relative he was separated from by both time and death. The whole thing was all too familiar, but the inversion was certainly peculiar.

"You would risk dying to find out about an ancestor you aren't even sure can be found anymore? That's even crazier than anything I ever tried."

"I'm not in any danger of dying as long as I have my family to help me," Miguel said with a grin.

"Ai-yai-yai, chamaco, your Mama Imelda is going to blame me for this."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Miguel said cheekily as he started to roll up the family tree. "I took notes last time I hung out with you."

"You are not sorry."

Miguel carefully put the family tree back in its temporary storage spot, then turned to Hector. "So can you help me?"

Hector rubbed his temple. "The truth is, there were several Josefinas in shantytown, and I didn't know any of them well. None of them went by a last name. In fact, none of us ever bothered to tell one another our last names because we didn't see a point. We didn't belong to any family."

"Well, we can at least start looking there," Miguel said, moving toward the door. "Come on, we gotta get going!"

Hector skittered in front of Miguel. "Oh, no no no, mijo, we are _not_ going on another wild goose chase through the Land of the Dead! Once was enough for both a lifetime _and_ an afterlife-time!"

Miguel set his jaw and looked at Hector. "Papa Hector, Josefina is family. I have to try and help her. If there's anything I can do to help my family, I have to try."

"The best way to help your family is to not die young, Miguel!" Hector replied.

"If you go with me and take along a marigold petal, I don't have to worry about dying! I'll let you send me home before sunrise, no matter what we find out. I promise! I want to do this for my mama."

With that, the boy gave his great-great-grandfather a pitiful look. Hector immediately felt his resolve crumble. If his grandson wanted to be a hero, the least he could do was be his chaperon.

"Fine. But if Imelda cracks my skull with her boot for this, I swear I will haunt you every Dia de los Muertos between now and when you die! Quietly, in your sleep! At an obscenely old age! Surrounded by scores of children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren!"

Miguel laughed. "Deal," he said. "Now, come on, we only have until sunrise!" He bolted out the door, plucking his hat off the ground along the way, with Dante leaping up and bounding after him.

Hector gave an exasperated sigh and rushed to catch up. He did make sure to grab a handful of marigold petals along the way, stuffing them into his pocket.

He would have to make his way back through the courtyard. Miguel had slipped through completely unnoticed by his dead relatives, as they were all still engaged in the party and didn't register the fact that Miguel was glowing and translucent like themselves. But Hector would likely not be so lucky. He sighed again and tried to stride casually through the courtyard.

"Papa!" Coco called. "Did you see the ofrenda room? Oh, and the lovely family tree Miguel and Rosa made for me?"

"I did, mija," Hector responded, making his way toward his guitar, which he'd taken as an offering from Miguel. "And it was all very beautiful, but very overwhelming. So if you don't mind, I'm going to step out where it's less crowded and catch my breath."

"Be back before the fireworks," Imelda instructed. "We're going to join the family meal, then head home."

"Si, claro, mi amor," Hector called as he plucked up his guitar and made his way out to the street. "I may go for a bit of a walk; see how the town has changed. You can always send Pepita to come get me, but if I do get lost, I'll meet you on the other side."

"Don't you dare get lost, stupid," Imelda said, half-teasing. "If you do, I'll let Pepita do whatever she likes to you once we get back home."

"Fair enough." With that, Hector made his escape.

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 **AN:** This is very much a WIP, and I'm not 100% sure where I'm going with it at this point. I've found I'm slightly more likely to finish a multi-chapter story if I don't commit myself to a certain number of chapters or a rigid plotline. Input is welcome. Please log in and leave a review so I can respond.


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